Comfort
by Arcadia Jones
Summary: The events that occurred at the Hawke mansion after Leandra's death.   VERY STRONG M Rating  mHawke/Anders


**WARNING! This story contains graphic sex of the male/male variety. If you are against such pairings or smut in general, please return to the main Dragon Age story list and find something else to read.**

Author's Note: So this is my head-canon for what really happened after Leandra's death. Anders comes over to console his lover and smut happens. I have to say, I'm a bit embarrassed to share this, but whatever. I know there are other sick, deranged people like me out there who will enjoy it.

This story is a bit old, so some things might sound a bit weird. Hopefully the writing's not too horrible. I used a "generic" mage Hawke for this, so just look at the game case for his face. (Dat beard…mmm.)

Comfort

Hawke slumped down against the plush cushions of his bed, eyes closed tight as he remembered his mother's last words…remembered Gamlen's grief-fueled accusations…

"If I had been strong enough…" he murmured into the empty air.

His rational mind told him that he had done all he could to save his mother, had fought and bled every step of the way to find her. His sweat and blood had paid for this mansion, as well, along with all of the other little amenities Hawke had indulged his mother with. She had not wanted for anything material in his home, and though Hawke still begrudged his mother for the way she seemed to always be blaming him for his sister's death and his brother's near-death, he loved her.

Now she was dead.

And not just dead; completely defiled and disgraced by a crazed necromancer. Holding her cold body in his arms had felt wrong, because he knew that only the corpse's face belonged to his mother. How many other mothers had he been holding? How many other sisters? Wives? Lovers?

It was too much. Hawke buried his face in his hands and wept. Grief choked him like a cold grip relentlessly crushing down on his windpipe. He thought of what Carver would say when the boy learned the truth; thought of what Gamlen had said, yet again; thought of what his father would say, had he still been alive. Hawke hadn't known his father long enough, but he imagined that the disappointment in the man's eyes would break him.

Warm arms wrapped around him suddenly, and Hawke looked up with a start into Anders's worry-drawn face. He hadn't noticed the mage open the door, hadn't noticed him walk across the room to the bed. It was one of the few times that Hawke had ever let his guard down so completely, and though it was good to see his lover, the last thing Hawke wanted was for Anders to see him like this: pathetic.

"I'm so sorry," Anders murmured. "I know it doesn't mean anything, but…I am sorry."

Hawke pulled away from him, quickly swiping at the moisture on his cheeks with his sleeve. His eyes were still red-rimmed and puffy, but at least the physical act of crying could no longer be seen.

"Thank you, Anders. I appreciate it."

Anders winced at the man's hollow voice. It was so strange to see Hawke like this, vulnerable and in pain. Every moment they had spent together from their first meeting, Hawke had been nothing but a font of strength, cunning, and smart-ass wit that often drove him to distraction. Nothing seemed to faze him; nothing seemed able to break him. But in the end, Hawke was only human and he had finally reached his threshold. Now it was Anders's turn to be the strength, the comfort. He wrapped his arms around Hawke's shoulders and pulled the dark-haired man close.

"It's hard now, but once the pain fades you'll have all the memories you shared with your mother before. That's what matters."

Hawke shook his head slowly, eyes starting to mist up again. "I failed her, Anders. I let her down. I should have been faster, should have been stronger—"

"Stop. Your mother wouldn't want you to blame yourself."

Hawke chuckled ruefully. "You didn't know my mother. Blame was one thing she was good at. Bethany…Carver…even my father…" He drew in a ragged breath. "It's all been my fault. I wasn't strong enough to save them."

Anders ran his hands through his lover's soft black hair, listening to his inner turmoil. He had met Leandra a number of times, and she had always seemed so sweet, so welcoming and warm. He knew that Hawke loved her with all of his heart, and yet it seemed wrong that she would place so much on her son's shoulders. Every hope and fear of their family rested as a crushing force on his lover, and there was next to nothing he could do to ease the burden. All Anders could do was sit here and offer his silent support—his silent love.

Hawke allowed Anders's calm to seep through him, to soothe him. He leaned his head on the blonde mage's shoulder and closed his eyes, trying to think of nothing but how good it felt to be in the circle of this man's arm; how good he smelled, even through the lingering stench of his Darktown clinic.

But it wasn't enough.

Anders gasped as Hawke drew him close for a crushing kiss, the latter's tongue delving into the mage's mouth to devour him like a starving man. Anders didn't think this was right—didn't think Hawke was really in the right frame of mind to make love—but as he pulled away and saw the look of utter despair and need glowing in his lover's eyes, Anders knew that there was no way he could deny him.

"Fuck me, Anders," Hawke growled, golden eyes simmering in the low candlelight.

It broke his heart in a way to hear the words, but Anders would do whatever was needed of him. Later there would be time for love; for now, Hawke needed a way to forget, at least for a little while. Anders allowed a portion of Justice's psyche to enter his mind, fueling the ferocity that he would need to do this.

With a growl, Anders threw Hawke back to the bed, straddling the man's hips as he tore at buttons and silk, ripping Hawke's expensive clothes off. The man didn't seem to care as he reached for the clasps of Anders's robes. Once Hawke was naked, Anders stood and took a few steps back, quickly disrobing himself (it wouldn't do to walk home naked). Hawke watched him with hungry eyes, one hand slowly stroking himself to readiness. Anders shuddered as he watched the man please himself, hurrying to remove the last of his underclothes.

When he was naked as well, Anders nearly threw himself back on top of Hawke and the pair moaned in unison as their erections rubbed together. Their lips were locked in a furious battle for dominance while Hawke's fingers scratched little lines up and down Anders's back and sides.

The sheer intensity of the encounter had already made Anders hard and aching. Before Justice pulled back and the compassionate side of his nature took control, Anders stood up once more and flipped Hawke on his stomach, instantly plunging two fingers into the man's tight entrance. Hawke cried out once before falling into a series of little gasps and groans as Anders stretched him. Satisfied that he was ready, Anders then proceeded to use the little droplets of pre-cum forming at the tip of his penis to lubricate himself.

Hawke lowered his face and torso to the bed, hips high and legs spread so that Anders would have ample space and position. He was panting against the sheets, hips swaying as he impatiently waited for Anders to get ready. The mage was always a careful one when it came to sex; always making sure that they were comfortable and safe. Normally it was a welcome sentiment; right now, Hawke wouldn't have cared had the man shoved in dry.

"Anders…" he groaned, pushing his hips up even higher.

"Here I come, Hawke," the mage breathed as he grasped the darker man's slim hips.

Anders pressed the tip of his cock inside just barely, pleasure rolling over him at the way Hawke's body had already started to compress around him.

"Anders!" Hawke growled, and then gasped as the mage buried himself to the hilt.

Anders tried to start out slow, to give his lover time to adjust, but Hawke wasn't taking that. Every time Anders thrust forward, Hawke was pushing himself back, drawing the mage in deeper and deeper each time. After a few moments, Anders finally gave up and began pounding into the man, head thrown back in wild ecstasy.

Every time Anders thrust inside, his cock slid against that little spot deep within Hawke that drove the man crazy. He cried out with each thrust, calling out his lover's name or some unintelligible gibberish. He never wanted the feeling to end, never wanted Anders to leave his body. All thoughts of his mother—of his guilt—had fled the instant Anders had pushed himself inside, and in this moment Hawke finally felt free.

"Oh Maker, Anders! Harder!"

Smirking, Anders stopped his thrusts and pulled out to Hawke's ultimate dismay. The dark haired man looked back at him, tears brimming in his golden eyes. Quickly, Anders flipped Hawke on his side, lifting the man's left leg up to rest on his shoulder as he pushed back inside of his willing lover.

Hawke screamed from the pure intensity of the position, at how much deeper the mage seemed to penetrate. Anders pounded into him fiercely, the mage's right hand reaching up to pump his erection in time with his thrusts. Hawke could only grip the sheets of his bed—knuckles white—as his pleasure mounted to heights he had once thought unattainable.

"Hawke," Anders rasped. "I love you."

He looked up at the blonde through glazed eyes. Watching Anders thrust into him—pleasure him—had to be the sexiest thing he had ever seen. Hawke's heart was so full every time he looked at his lover; what had he been so sad about before that he had nearly pushed this man away?

"I…love you, Anders," Hawke echoed a moment before he cried out in climax.

Anders continued to pump his lover's cock as he thrust inside, emptying Hawke of everything. The mage was close now, but he wanted to keep going as long as he could. Anders could tell that this had truly helped Hawke to push aside his pain, and the longer he could help his lover remain at peace the better. But soon enough, his pleasure reached its peak and Anders threw back his head in a silent scream as he emptied himself into Hawke's throbbing passage.

Spent, Anders collapsed on top of Hawke, who wrapped his arms lovingly around the mage. Anders let his eyes close as he savored the feel of the man's strong fingers stroking the bare skin of his back.

"I think…that the Maker is cruel, sometimes," Hawke murmured against Anders's soft blonde hair.

Anders lifted himself up so that he could look down at Hawke, brow creased in worry once more. But his apprehension quickly faded as the dark man beneath him smiled, reaching up to cup the mage's face in his hands.

"But then, he can also be kind. How else would I have found you?" Hawke placed a gentle kiss on Anders's lips. "Thank you, my love. For everything…"


End file.
